


One Shots

by calic0kitt3n (calico_kitten)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Age Difference, Beauxbatons Exchange Student, Dom Severus Snape, F/M, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Mildly Dubious Consent, Not Epilogue Compliant, Professor Remus Lupin, Severus Snape Lives, Shameless Smut, Teacher-Student Relationship, Young Lucius Malfoy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-03-11
Packaged: 2021-02-26 12:42:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22785304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calico_kitten/pseuds/calic0kitt3n
Summary: Some XReader one-shots with HP characters. My Dolohov/Granger one-shot has taken on a life of its own and thus has been moved to it's own story.Tags are tricky as they may only apply to one or all stories. I try to include all possible tags in case one might be something you may like or absolutely hate. Either way, forewarned is forearmed! None of these include anything illegal and anything underage is between classmates.I do not own these characters, but I am grateful to J.K. Rowling for their existence.
Relationships: Lucius Malfoy/Original Female Character(s), Remus Lupin/Original Female Character(s), Remus Lupin/Reader, Severus Snape/Original Female Character(s), Severus Snape/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 65





	1. Hard Work Pays Off (Remus Lupin)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You've asked Professor Lupin to help you study this year in hopes of catching his attention, but he's always so guarded. You finish your exams and decide that it's now or never! 
> 
> Smut. NOT underage.

You're in your last year at Hogwarts when Lupin teaches DADA.  
Y/N = your name

You approach him after class.

"Professor, is it possible for you to help me prepare for my N.E.W.T.S.? I'm afraid that I learned nothing when we had Lockhart last year and am a bit nervous.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. But I’m sure you’ve nothing to worry about - you’ve done well this year.”

“All the same, Professor...”

“Well... I don’t suppose a bit of review could hurt. Shall we begin next week or would you rather come by this evening after dinner?”

“This evening is perfect, Professor. Thank you!”

That evening you return wearing a skirt, though you do nothing untoward. However, as the tutoring progresses, you permit yourself to wear gradually shorter dresses and skirts and to occasionally bump into him.

After the exams, you find him in his office once more. You’re wearing a thin shift with nothing beneath. When he welcomes you in, you lock the door behind you by whispering a spell.

“I wanted to thank you, Professor Lupin, for your help. I think I did quite well,” you beam as you approach him.

“Well, you’ve worked quite hard, so I don’t see why you shouldn’t have.”

“And you’ve worked...hard... helping me. And I would like to offer you something by way of thanks.” 

You inch closer to him.

“Well that’s very kind..”

He stops when you place your hands on his chest.

“I’m not doing this out of kindness,” you whisper.

You go up on your tiptoes and bring your lips to his. Out of instinct he grabs your sides to push you back, but your little moan makes him move his lips against yours and pull you tighter against him. You pull your face back, panting, and look him in the eye.

“Take me,” you whisper.

“Merlin! You know I can’t do that..”

You grind your hips against him.

“I’ve waited all year and now you’re leaving anyway. And don’t tell me you’ve never thought about it.”

“I refused to let myself go down that path.”

"Well I was not so careful, Professor," you whisper against his cheek.

A growl escapes his throat. "I think you should leave."

"Not until I get what I came here for..."

His hands slide up under your dress and he groans when he finds that there is nothing else and you're soaking wet. He pushes you back onto his desk and you squeak with surprise. He rucks up your dress, exposing your lovely breasts which he is quick to massage with his hands, little whimpers escaping your lips. He stops and quickly undoes his flies to pull out his throbbing cock, letting it bob at your entrance.

"Are you certain?"

"Absolutely," you purr. "Don't be afraid, you won't break me."

He slowly pushes into your wet entrance, giving you time to adjust as he lazily runs his hands along your body, exploring you, pinching your nipples, playing with your belly button, flicking a finger across your clit.

"Oh, Professor," you sigh.

"I'm not your professor anymore, Y/N, as you reminded me earlier. You may call me Remus."

"Mmmm, Remus.. you've no idea how many times I've whispered your name this year."

A smile plays on his lips as he pushes in the rest of the way. "You feel amazing, Y/N."

A sigh from you encourages him to slowly move in and out and every time he pulls out, you squeeze against him. He growls delightfully and goes faster, the wet smacking noises echoing off the office walls. It feels like complete bliss and you hold back as long as you can, enjoying the moment. Now and again he rubs your clit, making you cry out.

"I'm not going to last much longer," you moan.

"Cum for me, then," he says in a strained voice. "Let me feel you."

"Oh Remus!" you shout as it takes you, a shiver roaring through your body as you spasm around his shaft.

He pulls out and instantly explodes all over you, covering your front in hot, sticky cum.

"Er, I'm.. I'm sorry about that. It's, you know, been a while."

You grin. "Don't be sorry, that was hot! How long do you think before you'd be ready again?"


	2. The Need for Discipline (Severus Snape)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You come to Professor Snape for help with a very particular problem. NOT UNDERAGE. Smut.

Y/L/N = your last name

You're a Ravenclaw in your last year at Hogwarts. You are out after hours hoping to run into Professor Snape. Your slippers make a soft shuffling noise against the stones and your cape is wrapped tightly around you.

Suddenly you hear a noise behind you and a light appears.

“A bit late to be wandering the halls don’t you think, Miss Y/L/N?”  
It’s Snape! You turn to face him, squinting from the glare. 

“A-actually I was looking for you, Professor. Can we go to your office?”

“I’m sure it can wait until tomorrow. I’ll escort you back to the tower.”

“Professor, it’s urgent! Please!”

“Fine,” he growls. “Come with me.”

He leads you to him a office and closes the door behind you.

“Now what is so urg-“

You bow down to the floor, head practically to your knees.

“Professor, I’ve done something terrible and need disciplined.”

“Get up, Miss Y/L/N, you’re wasting my time and Professor Flitwick can deal with you.”

“No, Professor, I need disciplined...”

You sit back on your ankles and let your cape drop, showing that you’re only in a bra and panties.

“Merlin,” he hisses. “This is highly inappropriate. Now get up, get your cloak, and be gone.”

You stand up but walk to his desk and lean over it.

“Punish me, Professor,” you plead. “I’m of age.”

“You are also my student!”

“Shall I pull down my knickers?”

“No!” he cries and suddenly has the sense to magically lock the door and cast muffliato before Filch comes snooping.

You start to slide them down anyway.

“Stop that...” he hisses. “You’re right. You need to be taught a lesson.”

He removes his cloak and walks up behind you, suddenly spanking your bottom hard.

"If it's discipline you're after," his voice somehow even lower than usual. "I will... provide it."

He spanks you again. And again. The last time his hand lingers on your skin, sliding down between your legs which makes your breath quicken.

"You're making a mess on my desk," he grumbles.

"I can't help it that I'm a bad girl," you sigh. 

He spanks you again, harder.

“Have you learned your lesson yet?”

“No,” you whine.

"'No, sir,' you mean."

"No, sir."

"Naughty girl, I will have to punish you in other ways."

"Oh, please, sir! Please punish me!"

He reaches between your legs again, cups your mound with his hand and then drags it back toward him, teasing you and making you shiver. He undoes his flies and his thick cock springs out which he begins rubbing along your thigh, barely brushing your nether lips.

"Is this what you want?" 

"Yes, please, sir. It's the only thing that will help," you plead.

He rubs his length along your slit, your juices leaking all over him.

"Such a naughty girl, aching for me like this. Tell me what you want me to do."

"I want you to fuck me, sir."

"And such foul language, too." He smacks your slit with his cock.

"How do you want me to do it?"

"Fuck me so hard that I cannot sit tomorrow, sir."

"So you don't want me to treat you gently?"

"No, sir. Please don't."

He laughs darkly. "The naughty girl wants her professor to use her, is that it?"

"Oh yes, sir. Please!" You attempt to shift so that he is at your entrance.

"So eager," he says appraisingly. "Let's see how you like it then," he snarls and plows into you making you take his full length in one stroke.

You cry out and he reaches up to pinch your nipples through your thin bra.

"Shall I continue?"

"Yessss...” you answer through clenched teeth.

“Yes, what?” he growls.

“Yes, sir,” you wheeze.

“Good girl. Yes, I have need of a good girl like you..”

He slowly slides his cock out most of the way and you whimper.

“Please, sir... please don’t stop.”

With a leer, he thrusts into you again like a battering ram as he holds onto your sides and begins pounding you mercilessly as you try to grip the desk to keep from falling forward.

You clench down against him to make yourself tighter and he groans, making you nearly cum from excitement. He reaches around your thigh and brushes your clit.

“Do you want to cum for me like a good girl?”

“Yes, sir. Please let me cum for you, sir. I’m so close...”

He begins rubbing your clit faster.

“Cum on me, girl, because I’m nearly there.”

The thought alone of you making him cum makes you whimper and explode and he makes a very pleased sound.

“Such a good girl... yes... you should be rewarded...”

With a cry, he fills you with so much cum that it leaks out and runs down your thighs while he gives a few final thrusts.

After he catches his breath, he slips himself out and pulls his trousers back up. He pulls a towel out of a drawer and wipes your thighs.

“Now stand up and face me,” he orders.

You turn around anxiously, but he crushes his lips to yours and his hands roam your body. You feel like you must be in a dream as his tongue slithers its way into your mouth to taste you. You try to savour every moment so as to not forget. When he separates from you, he smirks.

“A bit backwards perhaps, but you needed some disciplining before being allowed to kiss me.”

You give a small half-smile, almost embarrassed.

“But you were such a good girl that I think you deserved it. However. If you get out of line again, I’m going to have to punish you. Perhaps a few more times this school year?”

“As many times as necessary, sir,” you reply, regaining your earlier boldness.

“Good girl. Now I will escort you back to the tower and you will tell no one. Understood?”

“Yes, sir, of course. Though may I... be permitted one more thing?”

“Yes, go on.”

You reach up and give him a chain of kisses along his neck, pressing your body against his. He slowly pushes you away. 

“You need to go or I will have to keep you here all night and unfortunately you have Potions first thing in the morning. I can’t have you failing a lesson so soon in the school year.”

He hands you your cloak and hurries you back to the tower where you sneak into your bed and slip on pajamas under the covers, hoping that no one notices in the morning that you reek of sex.


	3. Scoundrel (young Lucius Malfoy)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A flurry of paperwork later and you, Amélie Cordière, find yourself at Hogwarts as an exchange student from Beauxbatons. You’re a precocious 15 year old French girl and are not very interested in strange rites such as a hat telling you who to associate with. You’re forced to participate in the ceremony and are placed, to everyone’s surprise, in Slytherin. You hold your nose high and go to the appointed table. You look around with the bored expression that you’ve come to master over the years. Some other students congratulate you in getting placed in “the best house” but you simply roll your eyes. 
> 
> “We shall see,” you reply with a slight accent.
> 
> Dub Con warning. Student x student smut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been reworked in third person and posted separately as "Scoundrel", the same name as this chapter.

A flurry of paperwork later and you, Amélie Cordière, find yourself at Hogwarts as an exchange student from Beauxbatons. You’re a precocious 15 year old French girl and are not very interested in strange rites such as a hat telling you who to associate with. You’re forced to participate in the ceremony and are placed, to everyone’s surprise, in Slytherin. You hold your nose high and go to the appointed table. You look around with the bored expression that you’ve come to master over the years. Some other students congratulate you in getting placed in “the best house” but you simply roll your eyes. 

“We shall see,” you reply with a slight accent.

One boy in particular seems equally bored, which piques your interest. His long pale blond hair and sullen expression match perfectly with his frosty grey eyes.

The next morning you see him again and decide to sit across from him.

“And what ees your name, boy?”

“Malfoy,” he says haughtily. “It used to be pronounced ‘mal foi’ [fwaa]. And I already know yours, Cordière.”

He says it in a perfect french accent. Interesting.

“My family goes to see our French relatives often,” he adds by way of explanation. “Why in Merlin’s name would you want to come freeze your gallic arse off in Scotland?”

“I am not afraid of zee cold,” you huff.

“Care to tell me what you _are_ afraid of?” he asks, leaning forward.

“I tsink not, Malfoi. I find you rude.”

“I like a good challenge,” he says in a low voice. Was he flirting with you? You don’t quite understand English mannerisms as well as you’d like.

You ignore him the rest of breakfast, but unfortunately he is in practically all of your classes since you are in the same year, as you discover day after day that week. He manages to become your lab partner in Potions and harangues you on the hallway. After a week you decide that enough is enough.

“Boy!” you call after him when it is just the two of you in the common room.

“Ah, zee French girrl speaks to me!” he replies in an irritating mockery of your accent.

“You are a nuisance. I suggest that you stop.” There, you think to yourself.

He rises from the plush chair where he was lounging and walks over to you, too close. You can practically feel his breath on you, but you hold your ground.

“I just wanted to help you feel welcome, Cordière. Other girls are getting a little jealous of my attentions, though. Or have you not noticed?”

“I do not weesh to play your leetle games, Malfoi.”

“The only games I play are the ones where you say ‘yes’ and ‘don’t stop’.” He tries to kiss his way along your jaw line but you push him away.

“Zhat ees enough. Boys do not act like you where I am from. Zhey are smart enough to be more subtle and eenteresting. You could learn from zhem. I liked you better before you opened your moutse.” You keep struggling with that damned ‘th’ sound, you chide yourself. And it’s difficult to avoid.

“Don’t think I have what it takes? You will see.” He quirks an eyebrow as if trying to goad you into saying something more.

You turn on your heel and walk away, finding clever ways to avoid him until Monday classes. To your immense relief he largely ignores you over that week aside from when you have to work together and you begin to notice that he tends to rarely be alone. Girls fawn over him and his band of miscreants flock about him. The next week it is much the same, aside from the moment where he accidentally brushes his knuckles against your thigh just below the hem of your skirt. You blush, but he seems to have not even noticed.

In Potions the following week, you are given shared homework and find him perfectly polite, controlled even, as you talk through the assignment. You’re in the library together to do research for your report and call him over to look at something you found in a book. He leans over your shoulder and his hair tickles your neck. Was that intentional? You ignore it and keep working.

In the common room later that evening, you’re sitting near the fire, asleep under a book. You awake to the feeling of someone touching your forehead. Was that a kiss? You come out of the fog to see Malfoy watching you.

“I was worried that you had taken ill, Cordière, the way you were sleeping. I apologise for having disturbed you.”

“Tsank you for your concern?” you get out just before a yawn escapes your lips.

“Come with me, I’ll take you to the kitchen for _un chocolat chaud_.” [hot chocolate]

“We are allowed?”

“I’m a Prefect, who will say otherwise? Would you like one or not?”

“So you change the rules to suit yourself?”

“I’m also a Slytherin. So of course.”

You laugh at his frankness. “Lead on then, Malfoi.”

You’re undisturbed in the kitchens as you sit and enjoy your steamy beverage.

“Zhis makes me tsink of my childhood.”

“Ah yes, the French breakfast. It baffles the English mind.”

You laugh for the second time that evening.

“I could never eat like you in zee morning.”

The pleasant banter continues and almost takes you off guard. On the way back to the common room, he holds his wand up to provide some light in the inky darkness of the lower levels. Somewhere along the way he places his other hand on the small of your back.

"Ees tsat necessary?"

"Wouldn't want you to get lost in the castle at night," he replies with a smirk. You can even hear it in his voice.

"Afraid I might run in anozher direction?"

"If you did, I would hunt you down."

"I do not care for zhis idea of being hunted."

"I always get what I want."

Chills run down your spine, but not necessarily the bad sort.

"And what... what do you want?"

He pauses and extends a finger to turn your chin towards him. His eyes flash as they reflect the light from his wand.

"I don't think you're interested."

"I wish to know." You stand up straighter and hold his gaze. He leans in even closer.

"I want to play," he replies, his voice low and almost dangerous. His hands clamped on your arms and wand crushed into one of them, he moves his lips hungrily against yours making you gasp. He seizes the occasion to slip his tongue into your open mouth and you squirm in surprise, but he holds on to you more tightly, kissing your jaw and down your neck. It feels delicious, but this was not what you had in mind for the evening.

"Tsat ees enough, Malfoi."

"Mmmm, I think not," he replies, inhaling your scent.

"What makes you tsink that I am that I am eenterested in you?"

"Because I would be willing to bet that your little lacey knickers are no longer dry. Shall I find out?"

"No! And for all you know, I am not wearing lace."

"Oh I do know. I saw them while you were asleep."

"Scoundrel."

"Tart." He nibbles gently on your neck and a whimper slips from your lips. "Yes, brave little Amélie, tell me again how you're not interested." 

"Not in you!"

He pushes you back against a wall and slides a hand beneath your cloak, palming a breast. 

"It's time to stop pretending. You blushed when I touched your leg in class."

"I did not."

"Lies," he hisses before tracing your jaw with his tongue.

"You eemagined it."

"Just like you hardly dared to breathe when we were together in the library. Was I too close, Amélie?"

"Always too close," you whine.

"But yet you like it..." He continues you pin you against the wall and you feel your skirt creeping up, a hand snaking up your thigh.

"Tresse de Morgane!" you swear under your breath as his fingertip brushes your knickers.

"Mmmm, I was right after all."

"Please..." 

He hooks a finger inside your soaked knickers and into your slick folds. 

"Please what?"

"Stop no-.." He thrusts his finger inside and presses against your wall, making you gasp.

"Still sure?" he murmurs as he grinds the heel of his hand against your clit.

"Damn you," you pant.

"You will cum for me, Amélie Cordière." He pushes another finger inside and begins fucking you.

"Malfoi.." you whine.

"It's Lucius now, ma cherie. Call me Lucius. Shall I stop now?" 

"Yes... No... don't stop..."

"Good, because I'm not going to," he growls against your lips.

You kiss him more ardently now, shifting to help him hit the right spot.

"Lu..cius.." you whimper when he breaks the kiss. 

"Yes, say my name again.."

"Lucius!" You squeeze against his fingers.

"Are you going to cum for me now, cherie?"

You pant and close your eyes, your head lolling to the side. So close. So close.

He nips at your neck with his teeth.

"Hnnngh.. Lucius.." you plead quietly before you simply fall apart on his hand.

His predatory smile gleams in the faint wandlight. He slides his soaked fingers out of your knickers and licks them clean.

"Divine," he purrs.

"Not fair," you sigh.

"Not enough?"

"No, too good."

He smirks at that.

"I told you that I get what I want, Amélie Cordière. I wasn't lying."

He leans forward and whispers in your ear, "If you want more, you'll have to ask nicely." He nips at your earlobe before moving away. "And now, to your room. You're out past curfew and you're lucky that I won't tell Slughorn."

He brusquely grabs your arm and hurries you down the hallway.

"You... you are not a nice boy," you sputter.

"You can tell yourself that when you think of me at night."

He leaves you at the entrance of the Slytherin girls dormitory. "Bonne nuit, ma cherie," he whispers.

You turn away and go through the door with a huff. You're almost certain that you hear him laugh behind you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No offense to meant to any French-speaking readers. Most of my French friends have a bit of an accent when I can convince them to speak English and I've tried to capture it here. In reality it's quite lovely!


	4. Ghosts From the Past (Severus Snape)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The war is over. You're a witch who's only recently moved back to England after living abroad as a Muggle and has been nicking the Prophet from bins to catch up on news. You may have left that world, but you feel the need to know what's going on, if the rumours were true. As luck would have it, one Friday night you find yourself in the same pub with a man that looks suspiciously like Severus Snape, reported to be dead. But you haven't seen him for the better part of twenty years, so it's possible that you're wrong. You decide to find out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A totally different one shot! This one got a little long, but I hope you enjoy it all the same. Cheers!

The war has been over for several weeks now. You’ve only been back for a few of those weeks and just yesterday landed a job. But on this hot Friday August night you still find yourself at a Muggle pub that you used to frequent years ago. Another client walks in and orders a bourbon. You glance down the bar and see a man in black leather trousers, black tee shirt, black boots. His black hair hangs just past his shoulders and when he looks up to accept his drink, you catch a glimpse of his profile. No, it can't be. You blink and look again, stealthily this time, through your own long hair as you keep your head down. You steel your nerves and bring your glass with you as you slide onto the stool next to him.

"Taking fashion tips from Trent Reznor, I see," you murmur sweetly.

The man grunts. "Whoever that is." 

"Order of Merlin, First Class, hmm?" You have to know. You have to know if you're right.

He turns to look at you, obsidian eyes taking you in, evaluating, calculating. It has been years since you've seen him. Decades. But you'd know that face anywhere.

"And you are?" he inquires.

"You wouldn't remember me, don't worry. Anyway, I thought you were dead."

"Obviously...I'm not." His clipped tone is ever the same. "It's clear you know who I am. So who..are.. you?"

"Calm down little caterpillar," you smirk. "We were in school together. You were a few years ahead of me."

"Name?"

"Rosemarie Braithwhite."

"Hmm." He turns back to his drink and polishes it off. "I'll have another please," he calls out. "And one for the lady."

"Not going to hex me yet?"

"I haven't decided if it's worth it. I'm supposed to be dead, remember?"

"True.."

He thanks the man for the drinks and you clink glasses. "To ghosts from the past," he announces.

"So did you make the Slug Club, Rosey?" he asks suddenly.

"No one has called me that for years. And how did you guess?"

"Slughorn bragged about you to us. And what do you prefer to be called?"

"He what?! Um... I guess you can just call me Rose."

"Best student in your year or so we were told. Said he couldn't wait to 'collect' you."

"Heh. Well. It didn't get me anywhere."

"Maybe. I never heard your name again after I graduated and you were gone when I came back to teach."

"My father, he... he died in the first war. My mother was a Muggle and was afraid. So I left it all behind, went to uni and then stayed with her, got a job working for a big company. Typical stuff. She eventually got sick and I had to quit for a while. When she died, I packed up and got a job in America. I’ve only recently come back."

"I... I'm sorry."

"You've nothing to be sorry about. You're the ghost here, not me."

He laughed at that.

"I am no ghost. Though that would be easier."

"Pfft, don't be daft. How can you of all people say that?"

"What do _you_ presume to know about me?"

"Only what the rumours say. I've nicked a Prophet from the bin that said it was all over. It said you're a hero. And are you? A hero?"

"Only of the most selfish sort."

"Heroes aren't always like Superman."

"No... I suppose not."

"I'm impressed you know who that is."

"Like you, I've lived in both worlds. I'm not completely ignorant."

"Ah." You hide your feeble reply by draining your second glass. 

"Another drink, Miss?" the man behind the bar asks. You nod and he quickly refills your glass.

"As I'm supposed to be dead, I try to avoid places where I might be noticed. Obviously I failed tonight."

"Right, because you knew you'd run into someone who has left that world altogether."

"You've really left then."

"My wand is at home under lock and key." You pull a chain out of your shirt that has a small key dangling from it.

"Not so secure then."

"How's that?"

"Well now I know where the key is."

"Try to get it and I'll break your hand."

"I suppose that will work against the Muggles."

"You wouldn't dare do magic here."

"No.... not today."

"Well then. There we are." You finish your glass.

"Don't get pissed," he smirks.

"What's it to you if I do?"

"You're right, it's better to do it with someone else." He summons the man over to refill both glasses. "Cheers then," he shrugs at you and downs half the glass.

"Where do you live? I'm not going to be able to Apparate when I'm done." 

You nearly choke mid-drink. You cough and sputter and he gives you a firm thump on the back. 

"That wasn't meant to be a fatal remark. I'd rather you die on someone else's watch if it's all the same to you."

You stare at him in silence. He raises an eyebrow, waiting.

"My flat is a couple blocks from here. Am I supposed to invite you over now?"

"It would only be civil since I'm a big hero and all."

"That's assuming that I care."

"You're the one who came over here and interrupted my perfect solitude."

"Are you going to get bitter about it?"

"No. I've given up being bitter over pretty girls." He has the man refill your glasses again.

"Excuse me?"

"It's merely an observation. I wasn't asking to get in your knickers," he replies cooly.

You only half pay attention to his tone of voice and find your thoughts wandering as you polish off your drink. You probably should have eaten a little more this evening because your head is starting to swim.

"I think I need to go, Severus."

He startles slightly upon hearing his name. Goodness knows why.

"Are you seriously coming to my flat?"

"I need to," he replies quietly.

You go to pay, but he insists on paying for you both. Making up for crashing on your couch he says. You lead the way out into the night, slipping a hand around his arm as you wend your way to your flat. He doesn't try to shrug you off, which is good. You're not sure how straight you're walking, though you're upright so it's something.

You show him into your tiny flat and offer to cook something, which he gratefully accepts. You drink some water to clear a bit of the fog and quickly fry some bacon and eggs as he watches you with interest at the tiny bar which serves as table, desk and a million other things from the look of the heap you've shoved to the end where it meets the wall.

"Toast?"

"If you don't mind."

You grab the toaster and plug it in, throwing in a couple slices while grabbing plates, cutlery and glasses.

"Water or juice?"

"Water is fine." He seems very subdued though his eyes are bright.

You serve up your late 'breakfast' and the only noise is the sound of eating.

When he is finished, he turns to you. "I suppose you know how to do a lot of things the rest of us don't."

"Such as?"

"You have no idea how fascinated some people would be with your toaster."

You laugh.

"Well, I've been gone a long time. I don't know if I'll go back. I don't really need to. I like my job. I'm doing ok. And no one has missed me."

"You don't know that."

"Well, it's ok anyway. After Dad died, well, I didn't want to be a part of it. And I had Mom to look after."

"You made a good choice."

"How's that?"

"It was ugly. You're lucky that you made a clean break like that. Not everyone managed to hide away."

"It's easy when you're a nobody," you smile for a moment and then it falls. "I'm sure it was awful for you, though."

"It was. I assumed that I would die before it ended. I nearly did."

"So... how are you doing then?"

"Ok," he shrugs. "Taking time to think things through."

"Sure," you nod and then yawn into the back of your hand. "Mind if I turn in? I'll get your some blankets and a pillow. The sofa isn't bad - I nap on it all the time."

He chuckles. "Yeah, fine."

You return a few moments later with them and point out where the loo is. "There's an extra new toothbrush on the unit. Mom taught me to always have one handy for guests." You smile wistfully. "If you need a shower, there are towels, too."

"Thank you. Sounds like a good Mom. Maybe shower in the morning?"

"Yeah, up to you. I'm going to wash up and go to sleep."

You turn and go brush your teeth and, once you’re in your room, struggle into shorts and a little top. You take off your necklace and place it in a little dish and swiftly climb under your blanket. You hear the sink running in the bathroom and fall into a deep sleep of bizarre dreams.

You awaken in the middle of the night to someone talking. At first you're confused and then remember that Severus is in the other room. You go out and are about to ask him to quiet down when you realise that he's still asleep. You stand there for a few minutes, uncertain of what to do. He suddenly shouts "No! You can't!" You kneel down next to him and put a hand on his arm, trying to gently wake him. You notice that he smells like sandalwood and something exotic, but try to shove it out of your mind. Eventually he prises open an eye and sees you there in the dark.

"I think you were having a bad dream," you whisper.

"Mmm. Did I wake you?" he mumbles.

"It's ok. I was worried. Come with me."

You grab his pillow and his wrist and lead him into your room.

"Why?"

"You're sleeping here. Then if you start talking I can just stick a pillow over your face," you smirk. You blush slightly when you notice his boxers. He must have taken his trousers off when he went to bed. But he doesn't seem to be bothered.

"Too tired to argue," he sighs and collapses into your bed, pulling up the covers. In any case, he is instantly back asleep, facing you.

You watch him for a while in the dim light that drifts in from the street lamps. He looks distressed even while sleeping. You reach out and cup his cheek with your hand and gently stroke with your thumb. He makes a pleased hum. Your heart is beginning to hammer loudly in your chest. You didn't tell him, but you admired him when you were young. He was intelligent and handsome. You'd always wondered what had become of him and were not surprised to learn that his role as a spy in the war saved the lives of many. And here he is. In your flat. Sleeping in your bed. He rolls suddenly onto his back and your hand slips to his shoulder. What if.. You wouldn't dare if he was awake but.. it wouldn't hurt, you tell yourself. It's just a kiss. He'll never know. You try to breathe more calmly as you sit up and lean over him. It's just a little kiss. 

You lick your lips and lean down, pressing your lips gently against his. He's grown up to be so handsome, you think to yourself. After a brief moment you lift your head and lay back down next to him.

"What am I, some sort of sleeping beauty?" he murmurs.

You feel your face turn red.

"I thought it was the prince who kisses the sleeping princess..?" he asks as he turns to look at you.

"I... I thought you were asleep."

"And what else were you going to do to me while I was asleep?" Dark eyes peer at you curiously.

"N-n-nothing."

The corner of his mouth just barely quirks up. "Any reason why you might need me to be awake then? Because you've woken me up now for the second time tonight."

"No.. no, I'm sorry."

"Your lips.." he half smiles. "They're nice."

You feel yourself blush again.

"May I feel them again?"

"Mhmm" you quietly reply.

This time it's he who brings his lips to yours as he pushes you gently onto your back and leans over you, his chest hovering above your own.

"Open," he murmurs and you let him deepen the heated kiss, opening your mouth for his tongue to explore. You weren't really ready for this. Your heart is fluttering wildly and this kiss is giving you goosebumps. When he pulls away, your eyes fly open. He seems.. content? 

"Hmmm, that was nice," he purrs. "May I see what other..nice things.. I can find?"

"Uh huh," is your shy reply.

A hand drifts up your side and rolls down the strap of your top to your elbow, exposing a breast. He takes it in hand with a gentle squeeze and teasingly traces the edge of the aureola with his tongue before sucking hungrily on your nipple, eliciting a groan from your lips.

"Such a beautiful sound," he sighs and proceeds to pull down the other side of your top to enjoy your other breast, rolling the other nipple between forefinger and thumb. You reach toward him and start pushing up his t-shirt. He reluctantly sits up and pulls the shirt over his head.

“Better?” he smiles.

“Mmm, much.” You glide your fingers along his sides as you coax him ever closer. "Kiss me?"

"If the lady insists, I must acquiesce.."

He leans back over you, close enough for your nipples to graze his chest as his lips move softly over yours, taunting. Your fingers brush the edge of waistband of his boxers and he growls.

“Careful..”

“Or what?” 

He grinds into your thigh and you mewl in delight. 

“Or.. this..”

“You’d threaten a stranger with that?"

“You’re hardly a stranger. Estranged, perhaps. But again, you're the one who sought me out."

"I used to watch you. When I was young."

"Why?"

"Because I found you interesting. Handsome, brooding, intelligent."

"And tonight?"

"The same."

"You flatter me."

"I don't."

"I've decided to stop regretting being alive."

"That's a good decision."

"Even if that's how I've ended up here?"

"Especially that."

"Hmmm," he replies and kisses you again. "On top of me."

He lays back and pulls you to him. You sit up and pull your top off and wriggle out of your shorts revealing your simple cotton knickers with a small bow near the waistband. He immediately notices the bow as you straddle him, rubbing a thumb along the satin.

"Cute."

He rubs his thumb a bit lower and you whimper. Lower still. Until he just barely brushes your sensitive bud.

"Severus!"

He smiles.

"Lean down and kiss me properly, witch."

His hands trail down the back of your thighs and you feel him get even harder beneath you as you press your belly against him and nibble on his lips. You take advantage and begin kissing your way along his jaw to his neck and sucking on an earlobe. You work your tongue down to his chest, his hands cupping your arse as you push against the tip of his cock making him suck in his breath.

"Bloody tease, you'd better not stop there." Fingers travel nimbly between your legs to find your pants soaked through and you hear him snicker. "Nevermind, I don't think you have stopping in mind."

"Oh no... not in the slightest," you reply, grinding your hips.

"Not polite.. at.. all." He grabs your wrists and pushes you backward. "I've changed my mind."

You look at him with a confused expression. He smirks and yanks down your pants before removing his as well. He hovers over you on hands and knees, his smooth cock bumping against your belly.

"I was going to let you take it slow, little miss Rose, but I've had enough of your torture already. Bend those knees and Spread. Your. Legs."

It's almost too much already. He quickly hooks his arms under your knees and you feel his heat bumping against your soaked folds. You reach down and help guide him to your entrance, your eyes lost in his. You watch his face attentively as he eases into you. It burns as you stretch to accommodate him. You try to quickly erase any discomfort from your face. His own expression is that of wonder and astonishment. He has never looked to handsome, you reflect.

"So impossibly tight," he groans as he hilts himself inside of you.

"Shhh, don't move," you whisper as he starts to pull out. You squeeze down on him briefly and you both make a delightful moan. 

"Do that again and it will be over, temptress."

Your lips curl up in a smile. "I'll behave. For now."

"What shall I do then? Tell me what you want?"

"Fuck me, Severus."

He begins slow, breathing calmly. "I'm not hurting you?"

"It's hurting less. Don't stop."

"I don't want to hurt you." Concern ripples across his face.

"Fuck me hard, dammit," you hiss.

His only reply is a smirk and suddenly pounding into you rather fiercely. You gasp wide-eyed, lips slightly parted as you watch this man whose face reflects nothing but pure ecstasy while his eyes continue to consume you. 

"So good," you pant, "so good."

"Touch yourself. Nearly there," he breathes.

You brush your fingers along your sex and shift slightly for him to hit inside you just so. You squeeze against his thick cock again as you rub on your swollen clit, causing him to curse. 

"Bloody witch! Cum now!"

His words seem to give you that extra push over the edge and you cry out, your tight walls spasming, milking his cock that quickly explodes inside of you as he makes a delicious noise that you hope to never forget.

"Fuck... Severus.." you gasp. He collapses on top of you. After a moment, he rolls off of you.

"Sorry. Crushed you," he pants out.

"Hmm, that was lovely." You roll toward him and kiss his cheek.

"More than lovely, sweet Rose" he concludes.

You wrap an arm over his chest. "Sleep?"

"Absolutely," he yawns.

In the morning, you wake to the smell of sandalwood and spices. Opening your eyes, you find him watching you intently like a cat.

"I wasn't dreaming?" you mumble.

"No," he hums happily. "Nor was I, it seems."

"Stay?"

"For today."

You feel a tear leak out and run down your cheek. 

"Do you regret...?" he asks softly.

"Never."

He leans over and tenderly kisses your lips.

"Don't cry then, Rosey. Because I don’t regret it either.” His voice is kind, gentle. Reassuring.

“You’re sure?”

“Of course. I’m only wondering if...” 

His voice trails off and he looks unsure of himself. 

You place a hand gently on his chest and he covers it with his own.

“I cannot promise you anything, but..”

You watch him expectantly.

“Would you like to.. to see where this goes?”

You face lights up and he visibly relaxes.

“I would like that very much.” 

His lips form a smile that you will always treasure.

“Shall I make us some breakfast?”

“I think I might like something.. else.. first...” he purrs as he pulls you closer.


End file.
